When the Clock Strikes|Pi Han Ul x Reader|

Chapter 60

The night stretched endlessly around us as we walked through the trees, the scent of damp earth and pine filling the cool midnight air. The leaves rustled softly above, the only witnesses to our secret escape.

"You look pretty".

I stupidly smiled, but hid it.

"I know"

He let out a laugh, and kept nodding.

Han-Wool walked beside me, hands tucked into his pockets, his gaze flickering to me every so often. A small, knowing smile played on his lips, like he was enjoying something I wasn’t aware of.

"I had to be extra careful sneaking out," I whispered, stepping over a fallen branch. "I practically held my breath the whole time. If my dad even twitched, I was ready to dive under the bed."

Han-Wool chuckled. "Sounds like a heist. Should I start calling you Phantom Cheonga?"

I grinned. "If that means I’m a pro at escaping, sure."

He hummed in amusement, then let out a sigh. "You know, I was bored out of my mind the whole evening."

I glanced at him. "Bored?"

He nodded, kicking at a loose pebble on the dirt path. "Yeah. You weren’t there."

My steps faltered for a second before I caught myself. A stupidly big smile stretched across my face.

"You missed me," I teased, nudging his arm.

Han-Wool didn’t deny it. Instead, he just looked at me, his dark eyes steady, unreadable yet full of something that made my heart flip.

"Yeah," he said simply.

I sucked in a breath.

Okay. That was dangerous.

Before I could respond, the trees thinned, revealing the lake ahead. The moonlight shimmered on the water, turning it into liquid silver. The air smelled fresher here, crisper, untouched. It was beautiful, just like before—just like the first time he had brought me here.

We walked toward the wooden pier that stretched over the lake. It was old but sturdy, leading to a long bench-like platform at the end, the perfect place to sit with our feet dangling above the water.

We sat on the wooden pier, our legs swinging above the water. The night wrapped around us like a secret, the lake stretching endlessly beneath the moonlight. The air smelled of damp wood and fresh water, crisp and alive.

Han-Wool leaned back on his palms, his fingers brushing mine for just a second before he pulled away, as if testing the space between us. I glanced at him, catching the way his jawline looked sharper in the silver light, his eyes darker, deeper.

"You know," he started, his voice low, "I used to think night time was boring. Just hours of waiting for morning."

I hummed, tilting my head. "And now?"

He turned slightly, meeting my gaze, his expression unreadable. "Now I wish it never ended."

Something in my chest tightened. The way he said it, so simply, so effortlessly, like it was the most obvious truth in the world. Like he wasn’t even thinking about how those words would sink into me, deep and warm.

I swallowed, looking away. "That’s… kind of poetic."

Han-Wool chuckled, the sound low and soft. "I’m full of surprises, aren’t I?"

I rolled my eyes, but I was smiling. We talked about everything and nothing—random things that didn’t matter, like how I once got lost in a grocery store when I was six, or how he had an irrational hatred for lemons because he accidentally bit into one as a kid, expecting it to be an orange.